


Warmer with you

by Obsessionist



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Insomnia, Scott can't be strong all the time, Sometimes a wolf just needs his packmate, Stiles is there when he needs him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessionist/pseuds/Obsessionist
Summary: Scott can't sleep. He seeks out his best friend, and Stiles knows exactly what he needs.





	Warmer with you

Scott couldn’t sleep.

 

He tossed and turned restlessly, trying every position imaginable. He tried lying on his back, then flipped over onto his stomach, then curled onto his side, then shoved an arm under his pillow, then stuck his head under his pillow, then tried stacking two pillows on top of each other. He stuck his leg out from under the covers, dropped his feet off the edge of the bed, pulled the covers over his head and then yanked them off completely. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Part of him was tempted to rip apart the mattress with his claws and burrow down into it, but the rational part of his brain knew his mom would kill him if he did.

 

He stood up and paced the room, thinking that maybe he just had too much pent-up energy, but his limbs were heavy with fatigue. He flopped back down onto his bed and closed his eyes, and then rolled over- and gave up with a huff of frustration.

 

This wasn’t working. He blamed the mattress.

 

Impulsively, he dragged all of the sheets, covers and pillows onto the floor. He pushed and pulled at the fabric, shoving it into mounds at the sides while hollowing out the middle, and walled it off with pillows.

 

It looked like a nest. Or a den.

 

 _I’m not an animal,_ he protested. He eyed the barren mattress, trying to convince himself to go back to it like a normal _sane_ person would, but his bed had never looked so unappealing.

 

Scott sighed and clambered into the pillow-fort (a term that made him sound like a five-year-old, god, what was wrong with him?) He resisted the urge to pace around the hollow on his hands and knees or knead at the fabric with his claws – _fingers_ – like the cats and dogs at the animal clinic would. He just flopped down in the middle and snuggled up against the pillows behind him.

 

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to claim him.

 

But something still didn’t feel right. Something was missing.

 

Scott covered his face with his hands. He was exhausted and he had school tomorrow and it was already some ridiculous hour of the morning. He just wanted to sleep. It shouldn’t be this hard.

 

He pressed his palms into his eyes, resolutely ignoring the stupid closed-off sensation in his throat or the tight feeling in his chest that made it seem like he was going to do something utterly ridiculous like _cry_. He was fine. Everything was fine. He just needed to turn off his brain for two seconds and let the fatigue catch up to him properly.

 

But half an hour later he was violently kicking apart his useless nest/den/pillow-fort. A howl built up inside of him, screaming for release, but he didn’t want to wake up his mom or the rest of the neighbourhood.

 

Unable to bear it a moment longer, Scott leaped to his feet. He wrenched open his window and jumped out onto the roof. With a flare of red eyes he hurled his body into the open air and landed on all fours, fangs extending in his mouth, the wolf taking over.

 

He ran. Pavement and tarmac raced away beneath him, tearing roughly at his palms and the soles of his bare feet but the injuries healed rapidly and didn’t even slow him down. The wind whistled past, chilling the sweat on his skin as he pushed his body to go harder, faster.

 

He bounded up a familiar driveway and threw himself against the door. When it didn’t give way immediately he whined and scratched helplessly at the panels.

 

He heard stumbling footsteps inside the house. “What the hell-”

 

The door was pulled open and Scott stumbled across the threshold.

 

A metal baseball bat swung towards him and Scott made a panicked sound of protest, ducking his head beneath his arms.

 

“Scott?! What are you – dude, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

 

Stiles set aside the bat and Scott slumped to the floor with relief.

 

“Hey, man, are you okay? Did something happen? Is something chasing you?” Stiles looked past him, scanning the darkened street for a potential threat.

 

Scott shook his head. It was an effort to drag back his fangs and his claws. As soon as the wolf retreated, the exhaustion hit him harder than ever.

 

“Scott, buddy, you look terrible. You need to be catching some zzs, not gallivanting around the neighbourhood at three in the morning.”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Scott mumbled.

 

Stiles sighed. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. Come on, then.” Stiles slid his hands under Scott’s arms and heaved him off the floor. “Geez, Scotty, you weigh a ton.”

 

Scott tried to get his feet under him, the sleek grace of an apex predator replaced by the ungainly clumsiness of a teenage boy in dire need of sleep. Stiles dragged him into his room and dumped him onto his bed.

 

It was warm, still bearing the impression of Stiles’ body, and it smelled like him. Scott inhaled deeply, and something that had been coiled too tight within him began to unwind.

 

He felt the bed dip as Stiles sat down beside him. A hand came up to rest on his head and fingers carded through his hair gently. “You okay?”

 

“Tired,” Scott sighed. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion, either.

 

Stiles didn’t need a more detailed explanation. He understood what went unsaid, just like he always had. “We’ve had a rough time of it lately, huh, buddy?”

 

A tremble ran through his body. His life felt like it was just one crisis after another. He was struggling to stay on top of everything, to pass his classes and captain the lacrosse team and be the alpha of the pack and look after his mom and protect the town, and sometimes he could pretend that he was handling everything just fine, but other times the burdens weighed too heavily on his shoulders, crushing him. Even with his friends and family right there with him, he somehow felt that he was all alone.

 

He ached. And he didn’t know how to make it stop.

 

But Stiles did.

 

Without a word, Stiles lay down beside him. He curled around him, dropped an arm over his waist and ducked his head into the crook of Scott’s neck.

 

He was a warm, solid weight against Scott’s back, and the steady thrum of his pulse reverberated through Scott’s chest. His scent enveloped him, and it smelled like comfort, safety, family.

 

_Pack._

 

The tension drained out of him. His eyelids drooped closed, and his breathing evened out.

 

The wolf purred with contentment, and Scott drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


End file.
